Seed of Doubt
by DreamWithYourEyesOpen
Summary: In which Fred gives Hermione reasons for why her and Ron just don't work.
1. Chapter 1

I wish I had listened to my father when he warned me about boys. He would always say, "Hermione, they're only going to hurt you." But even as a young girl, I knew he was speaking out of fatherly instinct.

I listened to him in the beginning. I focused on my studies, preferring a dusty, tome to a boyfriend. I spent my time in the common room reading books rather than joining the other girls in their discussions over boys. It wasn't that I was oblivious to the existence of boys. I could appreciate a good looking guy as much as the next girl, but I never saw the point in putting priority on something as unimportant as a teenage relationship.

But then Ron happened.

Our friendship was strained at first, with Harry acting as the tether keeping us together. But then it gradually eased into a familiar routine. Fight, make up, repeat. And then suddenly he wasn't the gangly, awkward little kid I had first met on the train anymore. He was a man. And I was a woman. And as everyone expected, we fell in love. But not every story gets a happily ever after.

"Bloody hell woman, calm down."

"I will not calm down, Ronald!" I screech, trailing behind him into the Burrow.

He walks straight to the living room where most of the Weasley clan, plus Harry, is gathered. He ignores my words and collapses on the couch between Bill and Ginny, instantly joining them in their conversation over the recent Quidditch game. I wave at everyone and roll my eyes at Ron before walking to the kitchen where I find Mrs. Weasley slaving over dinner.

"Mrs. Weasley, I am so sorry," I wring my hands guiltily. "I prepared a pie for dessert but Ronald ate it all as soon as it came out of the oven." I say the last bit with a barely concealed growl. Even though I had specifically told him that the pie was for the family dinner, he still ate it all. Mrs. Weasley merely laughs.

"Dear, don't worry! I have plenty prepared for dessert!"

"I just wanted to help you out! You always make so much without any help."

She waves her hands. "It's okay! You know Ron and his appetite! Just go join the rest of the family in the living room. Dinner will be done soon."

I give her a small smile and then head to the living room. Ron refuses to meet my eyes as I sit in a chair on the opposite side of the room. And that's fine with me. Lately, it's always either silence or yelling between us.

That should have been the first sign.

"Don't worry about him."

I snap out of my thoughts and turn to the Weasley next to me.

"I'm sorry Charlie, I was lost in thought. Who are you talking about?"

Charlie chuckles. "I was saying to not worry about Ron."

I scowl. Even hearing his name darkens my mood. "I don't worry about him. He should worry about himself. If he doesn't watch it he'll end up on the wrong end of my wand."

Charlie guffaws and throws a strong, tan arm around my shoulders.

"What I mean is, I know he gets on your nerves and that you two fight a lot. But he'll apologize eventually and things will be alright again. You're Hermione and Ron! Just give him some time and he'll come around."

He gives me one last sympathetic pat before standing up and heading to the kitchen. I barely blink before the seat is taken once again.

"Trouble in paradise?" Fred smirks at me and I resist the urge to smack him. His eyes glint dangerously from behind his shaggy hair that flops down over his eyes. Fred and I have never been the best of mates but I've always held a great amount of respect for him and George. They never made top marks in school but it wasn't due to a lack of intelligence. I often find myself rather jealous of their creative use of their bright minds.

"What do you want, Fred." His smirk grows. He leans back in his chair and adopts a comfortable air about him that I know greatly contrasts against the angry aura I'm giving off.

"He's wrong."

Ugh. My poor, pounding head.

"Look, I-"

"No wait. Let me finish." When I give no indication of interrupting again, he continues.

"You and Ron fight. A lot. And of course that's going to happen in a relationship, but don't let anyone convince you that everything's okay just because he apologizes."

I sigh. "That's sort of the point of a relationship. You fight and you apologize and everything's okay."

He's already shaking his head halfway through my sentence. "Come on Hermione, don't you get it? There are two kinds of apologies. Ones that are meant to appease you until next time and ones that actually mean something. Do we really have to guess as to what kind Ron's are?"

I turn and look at Ron across the room. He's in the middle of some argument with Harry and George over the Chudley Cannons. As I study him, I realize that Fred may have a point. Ron apologizes for things plenty (after some time of steaming first, of course) but it never seems genuine. It's as if he's just tired of my nagging and just says what he can to get out whatever trouble he's in.

"I think you're the first person to tell me some kind of negative aspect about my relationship." I laugh mirthlessly. Fred's ever-present grin slips off his face.

"You're a smart girl. Everyone tells you that you and Ron are perfect together. I just thought you deserved the truth."

The situation is all too strange for me and I find myself speechless. Before I can respond, Mrs. Weasley calls everyone into the kitchen for dinner. Serious Fred is instantly replaced by the Fred I'm used to. He hops out of his chair with a giant whoop and rushes to the kitchen, the rest of his family not far behind.

"Hermione?" The small smile that had made it's way onto my face from watching Fred disappears. Ron stands in front of me awkwardly with his eyes trained on the door leading to the kitchen.

"Im sorry for eating the pie. It was wrong of me to do that after you told me not to." On any other occasion, I'd take Ron's apology without question. But after my talk with Fred, all I really notice is how obvious it is that Ron just wants to be in the next room eating. I know I shouldn't take his apology when he so obviously doesn't mean it or care. But I cave.

"It's fine, Ron." I say through a thin lipped smile. Ron hardly acknowledges my reply, simply giving a quick nod, before giving in to the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen.

Ron Weasley was the first boy I fell for. But Fred Weasley was the first boy who made me question it all.

* * *

R&amp;R please!


	2. Chapter 2

I settle myself deeper in my bar stool at the Leaky Couldron and sigh into my steaming cup of butterbeer. The dingy, dark lit pub has never been a place that holds a lot of value in cleanliness but has always held an air of homeyness for me that has always comforted me. But I've never felt more alone tonight. Tonight, I'm surrounded by strangers and sitting next to an empty stool, an emptiness I feel in every nerve of my body.

He should be there.

A night that I had originally planned for celebrating has somehow turned into a night devoted to self pity. I finger the envelope that is the direct object of blame for my conflicting feelings of joy and sadness, and wince at how deeply creased it is from the amount of fidgeting I've done with it.

"Hermione?" I turn toward the voice and am instantly met with the sight of a grinning Weasley twin swathed in a vibrant shade of magenta. I search for the left ear peeking out from underneath a fringe of red and conjure up what I hope to be a convincing smile as he plops into the seat next me.

The seat _he_ should he in.

"Hello Fred. Done with the shop for the day?" After ordering a drink for himself, he nods.

"George is closing up right now and should be meeting me here soon." A comfortable silence falls over us and any normal night I would strike up a conversation with him, but I'm too busy with my thoughts.

"What's this!" His pale speckled fingers snatch my worn envelope out of my hands before I can react.

"The Ministry?" He traces the golden seal on the envelope.

"Yes," I say emotionless. "They informed me that they've decided to pass my bill."

"Hermione, that's great! We need to celebrate! More drinks over here kind sir!" Before I can protest, the bartender brings two Firewhiskeys to me and Fred, who has a blinding smile on his face and pride in his eyes. He scoops up his Firewhiskey and holds it in front of him, waiting for me to clink my drink with his own. His smile starts to fade when he realizes I'm making no move towards the drink.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you've always wanted?" And he's right, it is what I've always wanted. It's a milestone in my career at the Ministry and one of the reasons why I had enlisted a job there in the first place. My supervisor in my department had been skeptical on my bill on elvish rights and I've been pestering her for the better part of a year to legalize it. I received the letter today on it's passing.

"Of course it is..." I fidget under his searching eyes and suddenly his light bulb goes off.

"What'd he do," he asks in a tone that's part anger and part frustration. Fred had never been a serious guy. Always one quick to crack a joke even in the most serious of times. But even with all that on his side, he still shares the Weasley temper. I can sense the storm brewing underneath his quickly cracking calm facade.

"He didn't do anything; he just-"

"Hermione. What'd my brother do."

I sigh and reach for the Firewhiskey he got me, wincing as it burns it's way down my throat. "You know that he's been waiting for that promotion in the Auror department and-"

"So he once again got angry when someone else got the spotlight over him?" He poses it as a statement more than a question.

"Fred, you know how bad of an inferiority complex he has after growing up in a big family and being best friends with Harry Potter."

As an only child, I was always first in my parents' eyes so I can't even begin to imagine having to share my parents' attention like Ron did. And even though I had to deal with being overlooked when next to Harry, it's different because they're both boys. There's more competition that way. So can I really fault him for acting a way that circumstances have shaped him into acting?

"But that's the issue," Fred says. "Someone with an inferiority complex shouldn't start a relationship with the great Hermione Granger."

I blush and fight the grin that's beginning to creep onto my face. "Stop Fred, it's not like that."

"Not like that? How could any of us compare to THE Hermione Granger?" His teasing lilt has me full out beaming at this point.

"He's an idiot. He should've been prepared for the job of being your boyfriend when he signed up for it." He downs the rest of his Firewhiskey and gives me a surprisingly serious look that melts my smile off my face. "You're going places. Its not fair of him to put you down for living up to your potential. It's like what I told you the other day at the Burrow. You and Ron are not perfect. And as harsh as it may sound, you need to realize that Ron isn't the one for you."

I frown at his words. After our talk a few days ago, I know now that Fred doesn't see me and Ron as the perfect pair. But I had never realized that it's not just that he's not a fan of us, but that he's completely against us. I still don't know how to react to the strange way that Fred goes from making jokes at my relationship to insulting it. Fred's never shown much interest in my and Ron's relationship in the past and I'm not sure when it all changed. He's always seemed fairly supportive up until the other night.

I roll my eyes at him. "And who's the guy for me? You?"

He doesn't let my sarcastic tone faze him and grins at me mischievously. "Maybe so."

I blush and search for words, any words, to wipe that grin off his face but come up short. We stare each other down, neither of us willing to back down. His gaze sets me on edge and I feel all of my nerves bunch into a ball of apprehension. He continues to give me a challenging look with one eyebrow arched up and a smirk.

"Am I interrupting?" With the moment ruined, Fred turns to his twin with a large smile, the dangerous aura slipping away.

"It's about time you got here, Forge. Granger here wouldn't stop bragging about her elf bill getting passed." I bristle at his sarcastic tone but note that its underlying the pride in his voice.

"Your bill passed?" George turns to me. "That's brilliant, Hermione! We must celebrate; BARTENDER!" He waves him down frantically and doesn't look much different than a chicken.

"It okay, George. I think it's time for me to get home."

He visibly wilts. "But that's not fair. I just got here while Freddy got to celebrate with you for the better part of an hour."

"Oh we weren't really celebrating," I peek at Fred out of the corner of my eye as I say this. The only sign of any tension in him is the clench of his jaw. "I should get back home to Ron."

After another ten minutes of George's begging and Fred's strange silence, I finally get away and am able to apparate to mine and Ron's flat. Tugging my jacket off in the hallway, I listen out for any sounds of Ron.

Must be another late night out in town for him. I try to ignore the pang of hurt in me but I really thought he'd be here after cooling off from our fight. I hear a tapping noise at our window and open it to reveal a scruffy owl carrying a large bouquet of sunflowers. I pull off the note and smile gratefully as I read it.

'Congratulations Hermione. Just know that at least one Weasley brother is happy for you. This is what he should've done for you. Don't let him convince you that you deserve any less.'


	3. Chapter 3

Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year, and as I look around the bustling living room of the Burrow, the fact is just further affirmed. With the Christmas tree lights twinkling and the smoky aroma of turkey curling out of the kitchen, I'm thrown into memories of Christmas as a little girl with my family. It's a holiday that has always held a special place in my family, thanks to its family oriented theme and my parents' deep Christian roots. Pre-magical abilities, Christmas was the closest I'd ever gotten to magic.

The Burrow is extra noisy tonight with everyone feeling festive. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley beam from their perch on one end of the couch, overlooking their boisterous family. Bill and Fleur coo at their daughter as she gnaws on some wrapping paper. Charlie and the twins flick wads of paper from the floor at an annoyed looking Percy and blame it on Ron. Ron yells at them beside me and on my other side are Harry and Ginny who hold a giggling, red haired Teddy.

The scene just screams 'family' and I get a little misty eyed over the whole sight. Other than the previous Christmas when Harry and I were hunting horcruxes (and Ron was Merlin knows where), I have never spent Christmas away from my parents. I shake off the ill feelings and paste a smile on my face. Blood related or not, I'm still with family.

"Hermione, thank you so much! This broom kit is sure to get my broom in tip-top shape for the Holyhead Harpy tryouts in the spring!" I laugh and give Ginny a hug around Harry, who sits between us.

"I'm glad you like it, Gin! You don't need it for tryouts though; I know you'll be amazing." She gives me a grateful smile and places the kit back in its bag.

"How do you like my gift?" Ron asks me, with a hopeful look on his face. I grimace at the book by my feet. It's a guide on how to properly manage hair and makeup.

Honestly, I'm a little insulted by the gift. For one thing, buying me a book is what anyone would think to do. But Ron isn't anyone, he's my boyfriend. And it's not that I don't appreciate receiving books as gifts. I love when people get me a book and say, "I knew as soon as I saw it that it's exactly something you'd read!" It shows that they put thought into the gift and truly know me. But who in their right mind would look at this book and think, "Hermione Granger would love this."

Or maybe the problem isn't that he didn't know what I'd truly want, but that he based it off of what HE wanted. I don't know what's worse, the idea that my boyfriend put zero thought into my gift or the possibility that he bought it as some kind of hint to make more of an effort with my looks. I trace the letters on the cover with a frown. Am I really that unattractive?

With a hand to my wild mane, I look up and meet Fred's hardened gaze. The corner of his mouth quirks up at me and his eyes flick to Ron. "Aw Won Won! How sweet of you but I think you're confusing Hermione with your dumb bimbo of an ex, Lavender." Everyone laughs at Fred's teasing tone and Ron turns bright red. I try not to grin at his discomfort. Serves him right. I drop the book back by my feet where it belongs.

"It's great, Ron. Thank you." I say halfheartedly, still feeling a need to appease him. Ginny gives me an eye roll over Harry's shoulder, signaling that I don't have her fooled. Judging from the groans around the room, I don't have many people fooled.

There's an awkward silence until Mrs. Weasley breaks it. "I think it's time to pull out the albums!" With a swish of her wand, several thick, dusty photo albums appear in her lap. A few of the Weasleys crowd around her as she flips through the first album. "Aw look at baby Charlie with his stuffed dragon!" Charlie cranes his neck to look at the yellowing photo that Ginny's pointing to. "Oh yeah, I remember that! That was my favorite Christmas gift that year."

"More like your favorite gift ever," Bill says laughing. "No one could ever tear you away from that thing."

Charlie laughs with everyone else. "You could say it was love at first sight."

They gradually make their way through the albums. I feel my heart break and my smile wilt with each memory that they bring up. Harry stands with the rest of them, asking questions and laughing with them all, looking every bit a part of the family.

Suddenly it's all too much. I jump off the couch and no one pays me any mind. They're all too caught up in their memories to notice. I walk briskly into the kitchen and lean against the wooden table. Flashes of Christmases with my family flip through my mind. Making snow angels with my dad. Baking cookies next to my mom with flour in our hair. Decorating the tree while my parents sip egg nog and slow dance to Christmas music. I squeeze my eyes against the pain and my heart thumps painfully in my chest.

"Are you okay?" I jump at the voice and look up. Fred leans against the fridge and looks almost too comfortable. He appears calm and collected but I can see the worry in his eyes. I go for a convincing smile and nod my head in reply, not trusting my voice to be steady yet.

"You can't lie to a liar, Granger." He gives me a genuine smile and I debate on brushing him off. This is a Weasley twin we're talking about; good for a laugh but not ones for a serious conversation.

"It's just hard this Christmas. I really miss my family." His mask of calmness seems to break and he takes an uncertain step towards me. A tear escapes from my eye and Fred reaches out and brushes it away. His hand slides to the back of my head and he pulls me to his chest, arms wrapping around me as I break down and cry.

"Shh 'Mione," He whispers into my hair. "I'm here." For what feels like the next few hours, when really it's only minutes, I cry big ugly tears with snot running out of my nose. When I can finally catch my breath, I pull away from him and immediately put a hand over my nose. How embarrassing. He chuckles and transfigures a nearby spoon into a tissue with his wand. "Thank you," I mutter. As I wipe my nose, very unattractively might I add, he pulls an envelope from his back pocket. He suddenly appears nervous and he runs a hand through his short, ginger hair. All in all, it's a pretty strange sight. I don't think I've ever seen one of the twins nervous, especially Fred. He takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something, but I beat him to the punch.

"Wow, I ruined your shirt," I laugh weakly and touch the wet spot on his shirt. I leave my hand there and look into his deep, blue eyes. "Thank you. I mean it." I go to pull away but he puts his own hand over mine, keeping me there.

"Wait Hermione, I wanted to give you your present."

"You already gave me my Christmas present, remember?" I ask, thinking of the book of personalized coupons that he and George made me, 'Create your own WWW product' and 'Stop a prank for free' being among my favorites.

He places the envelope into my hand. "That was a gift from me and George. This is from me personally." I shoot him a confused look and tear the envelope open. Inside are two tickets. "Oh my gosh...Fred..."

"Two tickets to a port key to Australia," he says nervously. "So you can find your parents."

I fling my arms around him once more with newly formed tears gathering in my eyes. It takes him a second to react but he soon wraps his arms around me as well. I grab his face with my hands and pull back to look into his eyes, my cheeks already sore from how wide my smile is. "You are amazing Fred Weasley; I could just kiss you right now!"

He chuckles at that and he casts a mischievous look upwards. "Here's your chance, Granger." I look above us and spot mistletoe.

What? That wasn't there before-

I'm brought out of my musings as Fred places his hands on my hips and pulls me solidly against him.

As far as kisses go, it's chaste and really can't be categorized as much more than a peck. But for the few seconds his lips are on mine, I feel everything. His lips are warm and sweet and something inside of me just clicks into place. All too soon, the warmth is gone. I slowly open my eyes in a daze and Fred gives me a little smirk but the blush on his cheeks shows he felt it too.

Without a word, he walks towards the living room where everyone is still gathered. It takes me a minute before I follow him in a daze. A daze that can either be blamed on the tickets or Fred.

I choose to ignore the feeling of apprehension that settles deep in my gut at the thought that while I was kissing Fred, my boyfriend was sitting in the next room. I can deal with that later. And with the thought in the back of my mind that I know for a fact that the mistletoe wasn't there before, I think of when Fred had walked away from me. So I also choose to ignore how his wand in his back pocket had been sparking, as if it'd just finished off a spell.

I decide to deal with my conflicting thoughts, and feelings, later. And as Fred leaves the kitchen, so does the mistletoe.


End file.
